


i had everything i wanted (but when i wake up i see you with me)

by CC_Writes_Stuff



Series: Make It Hurt: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Claude is also kinda paranoid too, Except at the end, F/M, Falling In Love, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Generally light and soft for the soul i think!, If You Squint - Freeform, Letters, Love, Mentioned Golden Deer Students (Fire Emblem), Mild Language, Mutual Pining, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions, Pining, Plans For The Future, Slow Burn, Soft Claude von Riegan, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Whump, and that's where the whump is, no beta we die like Glenn, there's some angst at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26411809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Writes_Stuff/pseuds/CC_Writes_Stuff
Summary: Falling in love was just as scary as falling. Especially for someone like Claude, who had never planned on falling in love. It messed up his plans, ruined his schemes, made him vulnerable. It scared him.So, when he falls for Byleth Eisner, he turns to an outside source for advice.-Written As An Alternate Prompt For Whumptober Day 2: Falling
Relationships: Claude von Riegan & Tiana von Riegan | Claude von Riegan's Mother, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: Make It Hurt: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915390
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	i had everything i wanted (but when i wake up i see you with me)

**Author's Note:**

> why make it either literal or metaphorical when you can do both?

Title taken from Everything I Wanted by Billie Ellish ([Listen to it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QbFSn4ztvs) \- it fits them)  
  


* * *

  
  
_~~Hey maman?~~ _

Claude isn’t sure he could pinpoint the moment.

_~~How did you ever deal with relationships?~~ _

At first, it was just simple curiosity that drew him towards the Golden Deer Professor, Byleth Eisner. Curiosity as to who she was, what her past was, and what her connection to Rhea (and later, the Sword of the Creator) was. But as the months moved on, and the Deer dealt with different, life-threatening missions - from Miklan rescuing Flayn to what happened in Remire, to simple things such as the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. The two of them, and all of the Deers, had gotten close during the nine months they were together.

But, if he had to wager a guess as to when he realized his feelings for Byleth went a little bit deeper than platonic, he’d have to say it would be during the ball. Or, more accurately, afterward, talking to her in Goddess Tower, sharing some of the secrets he hadn’t shared with anyone else.

_~~By that, I mean, something a little bit to the left of platonic. A little more... well, more.~~ _

That night was a restless one, spent trying to untangle the knotted mess and fluttering he felt in his chest. It wasn’t something he had really felt before, but had seemed to be happening more often as the year went on, whenever he got closer with Byleth.

_~~I’m not sure if I could call it love - not yet.~~ _

He wasn’t an idiot - he knew what he was feeling towards his teacher was something a little bit more than the tentative friendship they had reached. He just... never expected it.

Or maybe it was just platonic - Claude had barely any experience with friendship, much less romantic relationship. What he did know was that he cared for her, a lot more than he cared for... well, anyone that wasn’t his parents or younger sister. He trusted her (as much as someone like him could trust someone). Sharing even just a vague idea of his dream was something he hadn’t thought himself capable of doing before.

~~_I care about her, though. I lot more than I do for most people. I like to think the same thing of her._ ~~

God, why were emotions so hard to deal with?

Sighing, Claude looked out the window, tightening and loosening his grip around the handle of the dagger he kept on him. The moon was getting low, and morning would be coming soon. Another night with his mind running, trying to figure out his relationship with his teacher.

Giving up any hope of falling asleep, Claude sat up in his bed, tossing the dagger up into the air before catching it as it came down. The silver edge glinted in the moonlight, and Claude stared at it, going over what happened last night in his head.

~~_I trust her._ ~~

It felt like he broached something last night. He may not have gone over the specifics of his dream, his ambitions, but just telling her is more than what he’s done with anyone. And Claude - he wants to tell her more. But more than that, he wants her by his side.

~~_Whatever this... thing... is between us, I don’t want to mess it up. She’s the first person I think I can call a friend in ages._ ~~

A lump forms in his stomach. When had his views changed?

And not jut his views on his teacher, either. But all the other Deer... he’s starting to see them as something more than just pawns in a bigger scheme, or even just allies (even Lorenz).

Claude gulps, tightening his grip on the dagger.

This is new territory.

_~~She’s special. She’s not like the other people I’ve met before, and in more ways than one.~~ _

_Is this a good thing?_ Claude wonders, running a hand through his hair. When he came to Fódlan, he’ll admit, it wasn’t just to pursue his dream, but to maybe find someone he could trust. Instead, he found more hatred, more fighting, more prejudice. So he shut himself off, focusing only on breaking the barriers, winning the game, moving the puzzle pieces of his vision into place.

Coming to Garreg Mach - meeting Byleth - changed that, didn’t it?

~~_I really, really, don’t want to mess that up. I don’t want to mess this up - whatever this is._ ~~

Old habits died hard, though. Even now, it was still hard to fall asleep without a knife within reach, paranoia about getting attacked and schemes and plans running around in his head, and keeping him up at night. He still made poisons, hiding them all over his room - even a few places around Garreg Mach. Still flinched when someone approached him too fast or from behind, and had to stick his nose into every conversation and happening in the Monastery. It’s what kept him safe.

~~_So... do you have any tips or relationship advice?_ ~~

Sighing again, Claude looked up at the ceiling, the emotions in his chest still tangled up, making goosebumps prickle along his arms. Still unsure of what to do or how to proceed. It felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, and the wrong move would send him falling.

He cursed. This was exactly why he didn’t want to make friendships with people - it could screw up his plans.

 _“It could also help them,”_ his mother’s voice whispered in his ear. _“Add new players to the game, people who will work with you. Connections are an important part of being king, Khalid. Relationships, too.”_

Blinking, Claude looked up from his lamp towards his desk, then frowned.

Should he? It’s been so long since he’s written to her... to either of them. Not since before he joined Garreg Mach. Too risky.

But... maybe he could make an exception for this. If there’s anyone who would know anything about relationships, it would be his mother.

So, Claude got up from up his bed, lit a candle, and went to work.

It took a few parchments of paper before he got down what he wanted to say properly. Once he did, though, he folded it up and set it in a letter, sealing it with the Von Regain wax seal. Afterward, he wrote a separate letter to Nader, with instructions to get it to her, and sealed that up, too.

Claude had meant to send it out within the next week, maybe two. Hopefully, he would get an answer by the time he graduated.

That never happened.

_Hey, maman?_

Instead, monsters invaded the chapel, and then... and then Jeralt died. And after his death, everything changed, getting caught up in a whirlwind of stuff that never gave Claude any chance to send it.

The month after Jeralt’s death was spent between training, looking for information about Monica, and comforting the Golden Deer Professor. After that, Claude was trying to figure out just what the hell Rhea wanted with their teacher, what Byleth’s transformation in the forest meant, and what this ceremony in the Holy Tomb was - if he should be worried about Byleth’s safety.

Then Edelgard was revealed to be the Flame Emperor, and everything went to shit. He was swamped almost immediately, with a month to prepare for an invasion, and he was training and study and planning strategy meetings with the other Deer that he never got a chance. All the while, Claude found himself seeking Byleth more, at first just for information but then for more personal meetings, wondering if they were going to make it with Byleth promising he would.

_How do you know if you’ve fallen in love with someone?_

He did - Byleth didn’t, disappearing in the aftermath of the invasion. And between that and being thrust back to the Alliance, he had no time to even think about the letter, or what his relationship with Byleth was - just that he wanted her back.

It hurt, waiting those five long years for her return. Claude wanted her back so much that it hurt every time he thought about her, or in the late hours of night looking up at the sky and wishing she was there next to him, her hand resting on the one that held his knife with a smile, as if saying ‘I’ll protect you.”

_Because there’s this woman I know, and she’s… she’s amazing._

Sometimes, it felt like she was, there in his dreams but just out of reach. There, but not, never close enough. Those dreams always hurt the worst.

He would listen to stories, send out spies in the Empire, allies in Fodlan and Almyra, and soldiers to Garreg Mach to find her, scour through the rubble. Hope that someone, somewhere, had seen or met a mercenary with green hair and eyes and a glowing red sword. Listen, and hope for the best.

S _he’s strong. She’s kind. She’s a hell of a fighter. She’s pretty. She’s so many things I’m not sure I can put into words that would accurately describe her._

It got harder after his grandfather died, and the weight of the world was thrust upon him. Suddenly, his days were spent with paperwork and funeral arrangements and Roundtable Meetings with the other nobles.

Sometimes, on the harder days, when the weight of the war was pressing down on his shoulders, his mind would wander to thoughts he didn’t like to think about but did anyways. That if she was alive, where was she? Why hadn’t she shown up yet, anywhere in the Alliance?

At that, his thoughts would wander again to things he didn’t want to accept. That she might be capture or even dead. And he would shake it off and try to go to sleep, most of the time to no avail.

They had made a promise, and Byleth wasn’t one to break promises. She’d return - she had to, or it meant something Claude wasn’t sure he could accept.

_I like her - a lot. More than I have anyone else._

Finally, the day of the Millenium Festival came. Armed with Failnaught and Byleth’s favorite food, Claude set off towards Garreg Mach.

And Claude didn’t quite believe in miracles, but seeing the morning dawn washing over Byleth’s face just about made him believe.

_I trust her._

The rest of the Deer showed up, too, and while Claude had seen most of them since the war started, it felt… different. Lighter. Even some of the students from the other houses had showed up to fight with them. But, really, he focused on Byleth more than anyone. And the ‘my friend’ that had come from his mouth was real, genuine - she was the first friend Claude had in ages, and the best.

This time, he can pinpoint the moment. It was on the Star Terrace one night when he restless, mind running again as he went over repairs and what he needed to do to move the army forward. When he got up there, she was already there.

_And I don’t know what to do._

“Oh. Hey, Teach, I didn’t expect to see anyone else up here,” Claude said, and Byleth looked over her shoulder at him.

“Hello, Claude,” She replied. “I didn’t expect to see you up here, either.”

“Can’t sleep?” Claude asked, walking up next to her and leaning forward, resting his forearms on the stone wall. Byleth shook her head.

“No, not really,” Byleth replied, shaking her head. “What about you?”

Claude shook his head as well. “Me either. My brain is too busy, thinking of all the things we have to do - repairs, getting an army together, finding allies, food... Makes it hard to sleep.” And there was his paranoia, which, although it died down in the past few years, had never really gone away. The dagger was still sheathed under his sleeve, just to be safe.

_I haven’t felt this way about anyone before, not really. I haven’t cared about anyone in this way, either, not for a long time. She’s really important to me and that’s - that’s scary._

By this point, Claude had known her well enough to see the minute traces of sadness in Byleth’s posture - the slight downturn of her lips, the subtle hunching of her shoulders, the way her hands were wrapped loosely around her upper arms. He frowned.

“Everything okay?” If Byleth noticed him shifting a bit closer to her than before, close enough that their arms were loosely pressed together, she didn’t say anything.

“I’m just… I’m worried,” Byleth said after a few seconds, shaking her head.

“About the war?”

“No. About… about sleeping.” She sighed, her gaze not meeting Claude’s. “I’m… I’m worried that if I fall asleep again, that it’ll take me ages to wake up again. I know, I know it’s stupid, but… but I missed five years of my life, and I don’t want that to happen again. Especially not in the middle of the war.”

Ah. That… that made a lot of sense, considering how she was asleep for five years. He still wanted to know how that happened, but he was pretty sure that it wouldn’t happen again.

_I don’t… I don’t have any experience with this stuff. And love is an intimate thing, built on trust. And I do trust her, don’t get me wrong._

“It’s not stupid, Teach,” Claude said, turning to face her better. “I get why you’re worried. But I really doubt that that’s going to happen again. And if it does… I’ll try my best to wake you up.”

Then, after a moment’s hesitation, Claude pulled her into a hug. “And I’ll make sure we get through this war together, my friend. I promise.” It was a promise that he wanted to keep. After a moment, Byleth returned it, burying her face into his shoulder. It was like she fit in his arms.

_But I haven’t told her everything about me, and as much as I want to, I’m scared. Scared that she’ll turn out like the others, that something will happen to her in this war, that she’ll be mad at me for lying, scared about whole bunch of stuff._

“Thank you, Claude,” She said, her voice soft, like a gentle melody on the wind that made Claude’s heart skip a beat, the fuzzy feeling growing in his chest again. They stood like that for a few moments, just comforted by the presence of the other, under the moonlight sky. He was silently thankful that Hilda hadn’t seen them, either - she’d been mercilessly teasing him about his crush on their professor for a while.

Finally, Byleth pulled back, and Claude tried not to feel too disappointed at that.

“I should… I should try to get some sleep, then, I guess,” she hummed quietly, twisting the toe of her boot into the stone. Then she looked up, moonlight bouncing off her hair and making her eyes shine with the gleam of the stars, and his mouth went dry. She looked beautiful.

_I know that’s not true, that she’s not like that, but… deep down, there’s some part of me that’s still that scared little kid sleeping with a dagger under his pillow, pulling off a book of poisons from the shelf, learning how to differentiate between lies and truth so I didn’t get hurt._

That was the moment, he realized looking back later on, that he realized he loved her.

_All these feelings I have for her are something out of my control, and something I’ve never dealt with before. Its unfamiliar territory, and I have no clue how to deal with it. I don’t want to get hurt again._

“What about you? You going to try and go back to sleep?” Byleth asked, tilting her head. Claude blinked, before clearing his throat and shaking his head.

“No, I think I’ll stay out here for a little bit,” Claude replied, looking up at the sky. “The stars are pretty tonight.” Pretty like you, Byleth.

Byleth nodded. “Alright. Just make sure to try and get some sleep, Claude.”

“You too, my friend,” Claude said with a nod. There was a moment of silence before she departed, leaving Claude alone on the balcony.

_I don’t really know how to love. I don’t know if I’ll be good at it, if I’ll be easy to love. I don’t know if I’m built for it, with all the lies and schemes and walls I have._

With a sigh, Claude rested his elbows on the terrace wall, staring up at the sky. His mouth felt too dry, and the knots in his chest were much more tangled than they were before.

Fuck. This… this was not in his plan. Falling in love was not something he planned to do when he came to Fódlan. It changed too much, changed the game. When he first met Byleth, he saw her as nothing more than a pawn, another piece to be played for his future. Now, though?

Byleth was his queen - much more valuable, useful, important. In more ways than one. The idea was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

The thought of loving someone was foreign, new, and something he hadn’t felt towards anyone except his immediate family members. Even the sport flirting he had with Hilda in the Academy was just that - sport. No romance about it. But the thought of having someone he could trust, could lean on, spend his life with… it was something some part of him wanted. Something permanent.

But it was scary, at the same time. Trusting someone was something more foreign to him, something that he hadn’t had good experiences with. It would mean that he had to be open, vulnerable, with her, and that scared him more than he cared to admit. 

_Do you have any advice? Because I’m lost here, and I’d really like some help._

He remembers, then, the letter he wrote to his mom, but never sent, and pauses.

When he gets back to his room, he takes out the old letter, dusty and faded, and some more parchment. Ink pen in hand, he writes a second one, somewhat following the same idea as the first one.

Claude sends it a few days later, once he has a break in his work, right before he has tea with Byleth, with instructions to get it to his retainer. Nader should, hopefully, get it to his mom by then.

_Best wishes, your extremely exhausted son._

While he waits, Claude schemes, plans, trains, argues. Basically, the same stuff he did at Derdriu, only better because at least his allies are cooperative, unlike Count Gloucster. And he had Byleth - just seeing her smile at him makes his heart flutter and the day just a little bit brighter.

By the time he heads to Derdriu again, Byleth sitting in front of him on his wyvern, Tiana had responded. That night to warm candlelight, he opens up the letter, cutting open the seal with the dagger.

_My darling Khalid,_

More meetings, more arguing and compromising, more paperwork. Finally, the week comes to the end, and he and Byleth head back towards Garreg Mach with the moon shining overhead.

Halfway through the flight, she falls asleep, leaning on Claude’s chest, and his heart flutters again. He wraps her in a loose, gentle imitation of a hug (so she doesn’t fall, he tells himself) and keeps flying. When they get back, she’s still asleep, so Claude carries her to her own room, pulls a blanket over her, and lets her sleep.

Later, she’ll find him and thank him, and Claude still wonders how he kept the blush off his face.

_First, I would like to say I am glad you found someone. The world is harsh, and I know it has not been kind to you, but having someone you can trust by your side makes it easier. And she sounds like a catch, too._

The war moves on.

Grondor will be counted as an Alliance win in the history books, but to Claude, it doesn’t feel like one. Not with Dimitri slashing anyone in red or gold uniforms, not with Edelgard setting the hill on fire and letting so many of her own soldiers die, Bernedetta nearly so - it’s only thanks to Flayn’s warp did she manage to get out of there, and even then not without grievous injures. Not without so many losses, on all sides.

He and Byleth spend a couple of hours burying Dimitri that night, promising to come back and give him a proper burial, worthy of a prince, a king, once the war is over.

Claude isn’t one for praying, but he hopes that, wherever Dimitri went, he found peace.

_You’re right - love is an intimate, scary thing, especially when you don’t know what you’re doing. And it is liable to get you hurt._

Merceus is the big one, a puzzle Claude has to solve, and he spends the next month doing so. Looking at the semantics and soldiers and writing letters and hoping that what he wants to do - have Almyrans and Fódlanders fight together - goes well.

Most of the time is spent in his room or the war room, planning and preparing for the fight. That doesn’t mean he denies any of Byleth’s invitations to tea, or lunch. He likes being close to her, seeing how many smiles he can get out of her in a conversation, see the curious gleam in her eyes when he talks about constellations and books he’s read and stories from his childhood. Likewise, he listens to her speak, about stories from her mercenary days, a new fish she’s caught or snack Lysithea shared with her or something she’s seen in a shop.

That’s one of the things Claude likes about her - how, over the course of time she’s spent with the Deer, she’s shown a more human side to her. Her emotions, looking at dresses or sweets with Hilda and Lysithea, developed hobbies and interests other than just fishing and training. It’s subtle with her, but it’s there; you just have to know where the look. And Claude knows where to look.

Sometimes he’ll find himself looking a little too long, at the curl of her pink lips and the crinkle of her eyes when she smiles - truly smiles, the way his heart skips a beat on the rare occasions she laughs.

_But love is a beautiful thing as well. It’s kindness, and safety. It’s feeling the world light up when they smile, laughing with them during the good times and comforting each other in the bad._

Hilda sees it, of course, and teased him about it some more, mentioning during a heart-to-heart. He glares, but they both know it’s true, and she even offers to play wingwoman-

_Don’t be afraid of what might happen, Khalid. If you’re unsure, take it slow. Talk to her. Communication is key in relationships. It builds trust, and those are the foundations to good relationships. Everything else depends on the two of you - no two relationships are alike._

-and asks if she’ll be maid of honor at the wedding.

Claude’s face flushes and he walks away to keep what little dignity he had left. And if he gives her a bit more work than usual, well, no one but him has to know.

_Do not force yourself to do anything you don’t want, Khalid. A good partner will respect your wishes, and you should do the same to her._

He thinks of the letter, and swallows the butterflies that form in his stomach. Marriage is a big step, a lot more than just simple love, and he’d rather not think about that right now.

_If you do say something, and you truly do love her with all your heart, then consider giving her this - it’s a family heirloom, and my turn to have it is over. I hope she likes it, and that you are happy. Take care, and stay safe. War is a dangerous thing, and it isn't kind._

Inside the letter was her mother’s ring, a gold-banded ring with a green emerald that was a permanent fixation on her right middle finger for as long as Claude can remember. It shines in the moonlight, and he suddenly feels very small in comparison to everything.

The universe, the war, the extent of his love for Byleth.

When he was younger, Claude always expected that he’d never find someone, that he’d marry for political reasons, because he had to, to have a chance at achieving his dream. He never gave a second thought about marrying for love, because he didn’t think it would happen for someone like him. A half-blood prince and sovereign duke, with a Crest that represents one side of the border and a crown that represents the other. Two sides of a chessboard, and two opposing forces that would ultimately end up with him alone, or forced to choose one side over the other. That no one would accept both parts of him.

Then Byleth showed up and slashed that thought in two. Rearranged his plans, added more pieces to the game, and turned his world upside down.

Still, marriage was… it was a big step. Something he’s not quite sure he’s ready to take. So, after a few minutes, Claude opens up one of the lower desk drawers and sets in inside for safekeeping, while he figures out what to do next, and tries to put it out of his mind for a while, instead focusing on the next step.

And so he plans, going through Grondor and making plans to invade and capture Merceus, spending his free time with Byleth and trying to not knock Sylvain over the head every time he catches the redhead flirting with Byleth. He thinks he does pretty well.

Then, the day to raid Merceus comes.

* * *

The motherfucking Death Knight.

Claude curses in both Fodlani and Almyran when his scheme is revealed too early, forcing them to go on the offensive. At they had gotten inside the fort, he supposed, but he would’ve liked to do this with the minimum number of casualties as possible.

Oh well.

Merceus erupts into battle, with Claude and the other Almyrans flanking the east side while Byleth and the rest of the Deer come from the south. He saw Marianne coming in from the side, with Leonie and Hilda flanking her, probably in case anyone needed healing. Good thinking.

They moved quickly, the Almyrans decimating the Imperial soldiers and Demonic Beasts as they moved into a pincer attack of sorts, with the Death Knight in the middle. Claude headed his way - if he could take him out, then the army would fall apart, and Merceus would be theirs.

With practiced movements, Claude drew, nocked, and shot arrow after arrow, skillfully putting them through any gap in armor that he saw, going diagonally towards the Death Knight once the ballista had been taken down, leaving Nader to lead the rest of the Almyrans on the assault of the east and north part of the fort.

It was when he had the Death Knight in his sights did it go bottoms-up.

The Death Knight had his name for a reason. He remembered the first time he saw the knight, radiating an aura of malice and anguish and destruction, and had wisely chosen to avoid the fight. But this time, he had no such liberties - the Death Knight had to be killed in order to win. There was no avoiding fighting him, even as he tried to flee, and Claude pursued, Petra and Hilda flanking him as he drew and nocked an arrow, ready to pierce the knight’s armor.

In the midst of the chaos of battle, the arrow flew straight and clean. Then it hit the Death Knight.

When glowing red eyes turned on him, his heart skipped a beat, the same fear he first felt seeing the man five years ago washing over him anew. He gulped, tampering it down - this was no place for that.

“I have no need of you,” The Death Knight said, hollow voice reverberating in Claude’s bones, and he raised his scythe.

The taste of copper on his tongue was all the warning he had before everything went white.

White-hot pain ripped through his body, from his brain all the way down to the tip of his toes, exploding into stars behind his vision. Moonlight, his wyvern, roared and bucked, and he was pretty sure he screamed, too, caught off-guard by the attack, before his jaw locked, electricity running through his body.

“Claude!” Hilda’s voice cut through the roar of the battle and the blood of his ears, but it was still muffled and far away. He could taste metal on his tongue, and something slipping from his hands and from under him.

Then he was weightless, and he realized he was falling.

“Kiddo!”

_Shit._

For a moment, his mind flashed back to something that happened when he was a kid, just starting to ride a wyvern of his own. One of the stablehands had slipped some sort of poison into the wyvern’s food before Claude took him out, with the intention of letting Claude fall to his death. He had survived, a mixture of flying low and landing straight into a patch of hay ultimately landing him with two broken bones and a massive concussion instead of something more serious.

How far up was he now? Hilda was diving towards him, but he wondered if she would be fast enough. It took him a moment before his survival instinct to kick in and he moved, putting his arms over his head and attempting to twist so he didn’t hit it when he hit the ground.

**_“Claude!”_ **

Was that Hilda?

Wait, no.

_Byleth._

Memories of the time he spent with her flashed through his mind, and his heart twisted in his chest, thinking of all the things he didn’t say to her. The secrets he hadn’t told her, the words he didn’t have the courage to say, the gleam of his mother’s ring.

_I’m sorry._

He hit something, hard, and pain exploded in his body before the world went dark.

* * *

In the haze of darkness, he dreams of the sun rising on the Almyran palace, of the smell of his mother’s cooking, and there’s something cold on his ring finger. He looks to the side, and sees Byleth standing there next to him, smiling.

* * *

When Claude wakes next, it’s bright.

For a moment, he briefly wonders if he died, if Merceus was his end, and panic spikes in his chest because he can’t have died, what about Byleth and the war and breaking the border?

He tries to sit up, to make sense of where he is, and rips his eyes open as he endeavors to sit up. Panic turns into a sharp spike of pain in his arm and legs, blinding. Claude hisses and grunts, the strength leaving his body, and he flops back down into something soft.

_...wait, what?_

“Claude?”

_That voice…_

Groaning, Claude peels his eyes open again and tilts his head to the right, where the voice had come from.

Byleth.

She… quite frankly, she looks terrible. Her hair is messy and stringy, pulled up in a loose bun with several strands escaping it and bouncing all over. There’s a white patch of gauze on her cheek, and she’s dressed in a simple, white tunic with shorts, another bandage leading down her right arm. But her eyes brighten when she sees him, and he suddenly wants to say everything, right there, but that would be too much too fast, so he settles for something different.

“Teach?” His voice is croaky, dry, and it hurts to speak. “Wha’ hap’end? Am I dead?”

Byleth shakes her head, twisting in the stool. “No, you’re not - you’re lucky you didn’t die, thank the gods. But you shouldn’t move around too much - You broke a lot of bones when you fell. Even Marianne and Mercedes together could only heal so much. Your left arm and leg will be out of commission for a while.”

“Better than dyin’, I guess,” he huffed out, before closing his eyes and looking up at the ceiling. “Ugh, I feel li’ shit. Haven’t felt this bad since I acciden’ly gave myself foo’ poisinin’.”

“Here, drink some water,” Byleth told him, and Claude opened his eyes again to see her holding a glass of water in her hands. Claude smiled at her and tried to sit up, but as he did so, a wave of nausea passed over him, and he had to slap his good hand over his mouth to keep from vomiting all over Byleth.

“Take it easy, Claude,” Byleth said, and he nodded, trying to swallow the bile that rose in his throat.

She helped him sit up, a steady hand on his back, and offered him the glass. He drank slowly, trying not to disturb his stomach, until the glass was nearly empty and his mouth felt a little bit less like the Almyran Desert.

“Thanks, my friend,” he said, flopping back down onto the bed. “So… wha' happened? Did we win?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Byleth nod, but her hands gripped her shorts tighter, shoulders hunching.

“You… could say that.”

Claude did not like the sound of that. “Wha' do ya mean?”

“The Death Knight escaped, first off, but… Merceus was leveled right after that. There’s almost nothing left of it.”

“Wh..?” Claude stammered, his gaze snapping to meet Byleth’s. “What?”

“After we fought the Death Knight… we thought we had him on the ropes, but then he ran - pointed towards the sky. I followed his gaze, and this…” she shook her head. “I don’t know what to call it - everyone else is calling them ‘Javelins of Light’ fell down from the sky. They were more powerful than any weapon I had seen in my life… it only took a few of them to level the fort.”

Fear spiked in Claude’s gut. Did he just lead his allies into certain death? “Is everyone alright?! Nardel, the Almyrans-“

Byleth cut him off before his brain could spiral to the worst possible outcomes. “Everyone made it out fine, including the Almyrans. But as I said, most of the fort was destroyed, and a lot of Imperial soldiers died.”

Claude blinked, trying to process the information. Did Edelgard take out her own soldiers to try and defeat them? Was it some sort of last-ditch plan? And if so, why did the Death Knight know, but not the soldiers?

He recalled the fire set on the hill at Grondor, the burns he saw on Bernadetta’s body when visiting Marianne in her tent. A bitter taste forms in his mouth. Sacrificing her own people is not the mark of a ruler. Sure, Claude treated the war as a chess game, saw his classmates as pawns before allies, but even he wouldn't sacrifice them for the greater good, the cause.

“So where are we now?” He asked, looking at Byleth.

“Myrddin. We were going to head back to the monastery once you woke up.” Byleth frowned at him. “But, to be blunt, you still look like shit. You might want to get some more rest.”

Claude nodded, because he felt like shit, and Byleth stood. Napping for a little while felt nice-

-until he remembered that he didn’t have his dagger with him. And even if he did, he was in no shape to fight.

Icy cold hands seized at his chest, digging its nails into his chest and making it hard to breathe. Before he fully registered what he was doing, his good hand snatched out and grabbed Byleth’s own, maybe a little bit too hard. Byleth paused in her tracks and turned.

“Claude? …Is everything okay?”

It took him a moment to get the words out, his throat closing because _it was stupid, this was stupid, he was nowhere near the Almyran palace and she was surrounded by his allies, he was safe, he could go one night without it, he didn’t need a bodyguard-_

-but at the same time, his arm and leg hurt like a bitch and the world was still a little blurry and he felt weak, _vulnerable._

So, swallowing his pride, Claude choked out, “Can you stay with me? Just for a bit?”

Byleth blinked, as if surprised by the question, and looked towards the door leading out from the tiny infirmary they were in, and for a moment Claude panicked, thinking she was going to say no, and let go of her hand.

“Ah, sorry, I think that’s whatever ...whatever pain reliever Manuela gave me talking. You’re probably busy-”

“Sure.”

Claude blinked, looking up at his professor in surprise. She was looking at him, expression stoic as ever, except for the slightest upward tilt of her lips. It took Claude a moment to realize he should probably respond. “T-thanks, Byleth.”

At the use of her name, the smile grew a bit bigger, and Byleth took a seat back on the stool.

“It’s no problem, Claude,” Byleth replied. “Get some rest, hmm? I’ll need you in top shape for when we take Enbarr.”

Claude nodded, then, half out of curiosity to see her response and half out of a simple desire to hold her hand, Claude reached out and took Byleth’s once more, noting with a fluttering in his stomach that it seemed to fit in his. Warm, real, grounding, nothing like the cold, distant feel of it during the dreams as he waited for her. After a moment, Byleth’s fingers curled around his own, and he felt safe - safer than he had felt in a long time.

For a while, Claude had been afraid of falling, falling too hard, and too fast for Byleth. But right now, he realized that happened a long time ago, and this was just the aftermath. And as he slept, Byleth watching over him, he dreamed of the two of them as king and queen, leading Fódlan and Almyra into a new dawn, just like their own.

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot how fun and soft it was to write for this couple
> 
> [I Have a Tumblr!](https://ccwritesstuff.tumblr.com/)


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